You Look Pretty When You Smile
by MaryamLambert
Summary: 'You look pretty when you smile.' The words had left his mouth before he could stop them. Somewhere, in the depths of his alcohol-befuddled mind, sober Stiles cursed his drunken self.


**A/N – So this is set in a universe where season one ended a little differently, Peter died from his burns, so Derek never became the Alpha, him and Scott are both technically 'Omegas', without a pack. This is just so I don't have to go along with how Derek was perceived at the start of season two, and he didn't have to bite Isaac, Erica or Boyd. We're also assuming life continues as normal for Scott, and he, Derek and Stiles actually became friends, _socially_. As implausible as that may sound.**

**I also apologise for the stupid explanation of how Derek and Stiles ended up in the woods alone. I just wanted any excuse to get them there.**

It was Scott's birthday, and Scott had wanted to keep it low-key. With all the excitement in his life recently, he didn't want a big deal made of it. Derek had respected that, he didn't want to be obligated to attend a party, or any kind of celebration, despite the tentative trust he'd built with Scott, since Peter's death. Stiles, however, had insisted that Scott celebrate being sixteen, and that was why Derek found himself in the woods, at night, sitting against a tree, with only Stiles and a bottle of alcohol for company. Scott was supposed to have met them half an hour ago, after stopping in to see Allison for a 'quick' visit. Fifteen minutes after Scott was supposed to have arrived, Stiles had begun drinking. Twenty minutes, and he had broke the silence between the two of them. Derek had tried to tune him out, but, ten minutes later, and:

'Derek?' Pause. 'Derek?' Derek sighed.

'What, Stiles?'

'I'm cold'

Derek rolled his eyes at the dark.

'Well it's your fault we're out here, so stop complaining.'

Stiles huffed.

'Where's Scott?'

'With Allison.'

Stiles made a noise of annoyance, and muttered something about "Always Allison", and took another sip from the bottle. Silence spread between the two of them again, until:

'Derek?'

'What?'

'I'm cold.'

'I don't care.'

'You're mean.'

'Shut up.'

Time passed again, and Derek's irritation at the younger wolf grew. He was nearly an hour late. Stiles, however, seemed to be getting happier. He moved from the tree by Derek's, where he was sat, to sit next to Derek, offering him the bottle. In normal circumstances, Derek would've declined, but instead he took the bottle from the teen's fingers, and took a swig.

Stiles smiled up at him. Derek furrowed his eyebrows.

'What?'

'You drank' Stiles sounded as if he were a little kid, who had just witnessed Derek do something wrong.

'So?'

'You're always so uptight. You never do anything fun.' Stiles continued, in the same tone of voice. This surprised Derek, he knew he had been focused, ever since he'd returned to Beacon Hills, in search of Laura's killer, and then disappointed that Peter had died before he'd had a chance to kill him himself, and become an Alpha. He supposed he _had_ been uptight. Maybe Stiles was right. Maybe he should let his guard down a little, now that there wasn't anything to be afraid of anymore. He would. He shouldn't deny himself anymore. Stiles probably wouldn't remember much of this tomorrow anyway.

'I can do plenty of fun things' Derek smirked at Stiles devilishly, taking another drink from the bottle. 'Plenty.'

Stiles grin grew a little larger, and he took the bottle from Derek, drinking deeply, before turning back to him, significantly drunk now. When faced with the slow, dopey smile currently occupying Stiles' face, Derek had no choice but to smile back, a rare, happy smile.

'You look pretty when you smile.'

The words had left his mouth before he could stop them. Somewhere, in the depths of his alcohol-befuddled mind, sober Stiles cursed his drunken self. _Idiot. Why did you say that? It's bad enough, you having this stupid, pathetic crush on him, but now you have to tell him about it too? Fool._

Derek snorted with laughter, (not ripping his throat out, as inner Stiles was now imagining),

'What? I look pretty when I smile? _Pretty?_'

Inner Stiles breathed a sigh of relief; Derek probably thought it was the drink talking. Drunken Stiles, however, had other ideas. He leaned forward, over Derek, and brushed their lips together, tentatively, his heart catching in his throat. The wolf's eyes widened and his body froze in surprise. Never had he expected the boy to do _that_. A crushing shame and painful humiliation hit Stiles like a ton of bricks.

_Moron. What did you expect to happen? He's Derek Freakin' Hale. You're pathetic._

Derek saw the pain enter the brown eyes of the teen, as he whipped his head back around, upset by his own action. No, upset by Derek's lack of reciprocation. Derek growled internally. Did he even _want_ to reciprocate? He needed to let himself _feel_ again. He'd denied himself feeling for too long now. Reaching over, he grabbed Stiles, and pulled him closer, for another kiss. Stiles made a noise that sounded like 'mmph' before melting into Derek, unsure of what was happening, but enjoying it anyway. He turned, and shifted himself over, so he was kneeling, his legs either side of Derek, Derek's hands moving upwards, to cradle the younger boys face. Stiles gripped Derek's shoulders, pulling back from the kiss, leaving only a few centimetres between their lips. The air between them seemed charged suddenly, and Derek attacked Stiles' mouth with renewed vigour, forcing his tongue inside. Stiles slipped his hands lower, feeling along the planes of Derek's sculpted chest through his shirt. He tugged at the hem of Derek's t-shirt, before slipping his hands under, running his hands over Derek's hardened frame, stroking his muscles, before finding a nipple, and encircling it with a finger. Derek pulled Stiles closer, so close; the Stiles could feel the older man's bulge pressing into him, insistent.

A growl spilled out from Derek's lips, a deep, animalistic growl, that sent a pleasurable shiver racing down Stiles' spine. A rumble came from inside the wolf's chest, and he manoeuvred them over, so he was over Stiles, pressing the teen's body into the ground. He grabbed Stiles' hands, and pinned them over his head, rendering the teen helpless as Derek's mouth trailed his neck, trailing his tongue over his flesh. He began to kiss and nip as Stiles' neck, not leaving any marks, and Stiles threw his head back, doing nothing but submitting to the sensation, being unable to reciprocate. Another growl escaped Derek's lips, as he ground into the teen beneath him. He changed his pace, almost rutting against him shamelessly, like an animal, his eyes tinged with red. He was struck by lust, and greed, and want, and feelings he hadn't let himself feel for a _long_ time.

Then, almost abruptly, he stopped. Stiles grumbled beneath him, squirming to try and win back Derek's attentions, but without succeeding. Suddenly, he found that Derek had released his arms, and was pulling him upright, hissing something about Scott being close by. Most of what Derek said failed to register in Stiles' lust and alcohol-hazed mind, but he did think that being caught making out with Derek Hale by Scott wasn't a smart thing to do. Making out with Derek Hale. Stiles giggled. He had just made out with _Derek Freakin' Hale_.


End file.
